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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088244">Stereotypes Of A Blue Collar Male</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick'>trashcangimmick</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Dom/sub, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink, Uniform Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:48:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy finds Hopper’s old army jacket in the closet. It makes him feel a certain type of way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Jim "Chief" Hopper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>174</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stereotypes Of A Blue Collar Male</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Billy spots the dull green cotton as he’s rooting through Hop’s closet, looking for an oversized shirt to steal. He’s spent the night a couple times before. He usually ditches his clothes as soon as he’s through the door, so they’re fine to wear again the next morning. But well. His red silk button-down ripped. Because instead of letting Billy take it off all the way, Hop used it to restrain him. Rolled it down to his wrists, and twisted it up, and like. Yeah. Billy was pinned face down on the couch, all dizzy and claustrophobic, and he was maybe a little too enthusiastic about struggling. So. </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop is in the shower. Billy needs to get going. The way he and Hop have been banging, he’s more than earned a freaking t-shirt. He was gonna take the ugly yellow one with the <em> Indy500 </em> logo. He had his hand on it. Then he saw the long-sleeved green jacket.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy grabs the hanger and takes it out. The fabric is faded. There’s a little embroidered patch over each breast above the pocket. <em> Hopper. US Army </em>. Billy’s heart thuds in his throat. His blood feels too hot. He just stares at it, scalp prickling. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>His mouth is dry. His dick is hard. It’s not a thing he really wants to dissect. He lays the uniform out on the bed, very carefully. Then he walks towards the bathroom. He hears the water shut off as he pushes the door open. Hop steps out. Naked and dripping wet. Billy’s got his jeans on, but that’s not gonna last too long. He lunges forward. Drapes his arms around Hop’s broad shoulders and tugs him into a kiss. Hop seems a bit caught off guard. They’re fully awake. The sun is high in the sky. Neither of them are intoxicated. That’s not the usual order of things. But he gets with the program. He grabs Billy’s ass and squeezes. Kisses him back, thick beard dragging against Billy’s cheeks. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Well hello, there.” His voice is low and rough. “Thought you had places to be.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Shut up.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy steps back. He grabs Hop’s wrist and tries to tug him towards the bedroom.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Jeeze, kid. You gonna let me dry off?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Ugh.” Billy lets go of him.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop rubs a towel over himself, thankfully brisk. He wraps it around his hips, hairy gut sticking out over the top of it. He follows Billy to the bedroom.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy strips off his jeans and kneels on the mattress. He grabs the lube off the side table. He flicks open the cap and squeezes some out into his hand.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Put that on.” Billy nods at the jacket as he slips two fingers into himself and moans.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop raises an eyebrow. “Why were you going through my stuff?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Is that really important right now?” Billy gets another finger in. He’s panting. Feels like he just took a real big rip off Tommy’s bong. All fuzzy and disoriented. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>He’s just. Stupid horny. One track mind. All he wants is Hop in that jacket, fucking him hard and deep. He can’t comprehend a universe in which Hop wouldn’t also want that as soon as possible.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop lets the towel fall. He’s not hard yet, but he’s filling out a little. He picks up the jacket. Holds it out, looking at it. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Been a long time since I wore this.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy flops onto his back, putting himself on display. Working his fingers in and out of his ass real quick. Hop’s not looking at him. Billy whimpers. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Hurry up. I want it.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“No kidding.” Hop snorts. He glances at Billy. It turns into a lingering gaze. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop likes to watch Billy fuck himself. Billy knows that. Just like Billy knows exactly how hot he is. He knows how to part his lips, and spread his legs, and look like a filthy, needy slut. He’s had quite a bit of practice. Like. He gets around. Or he used to back in Cali. It’s a little harder to find large, burly men who wil fuck him in backwoods Indiana. Billy knows more of them are interested than would ever admit it. Hop is just incredibly unsubtle. Billy likes that. He likes being stared at, lusted after. He wants, more than anything, to be wanted. Preferably by someone who can easily manhandle him who is in a position of authority, but everyone has their complexes. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Fuck me.” Billy breathes. Letting his voice drift into a slightly higher register. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop sighs. He fiddles with the buttons of the jacket. He’s way too slow about it, but he slips it on. It was clearly made to fit a smaller man. It’s tight around his arms. He doesn’t even try to button it. But he looks so good. He looks big, and intimidating, and a little dangerous.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy’s stomach lurches. His dick twitches. He’s kind of glad he’s already lying down. He’s not sure he’d be able to stay upright. He feels like he’s melting into the bed when Hop finally walks over to him. He runs his wide hands up Billy’s thighs. He smiles.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“So you like uniforms or something? Guess I should have figured—the way you try to hump my leg like a goddamn puppy whenever you show up in my office.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy elects not to respond. He does like the Sheriff's uniform. It looks good. Hop looks good in it. That’s not the whole thing, but there’s no reason they need to go into the whole thing. Billy just wants what he wants, and he wants it right now.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Spank me.” It’s out before Billy can register it. Before he can be embarrassed about it. His face gets even hotter. His cock leaking.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Mmm… you probably deserve it. Considering you were poking around in my closet.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“I was gonna take a shirt.” Billy squirms. “Was gonna take it and leave before you came back.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Were you planning on returning it?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“No.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop smirks. He sits down on the edge of the bed, naked from the waist down, half hard. Billy waits. He waits until Hop fists a hand in his hair and pulls. He’s only compliant when Hop makes it hurt a little. Billy hisses as he’s half dragged (half crawls) over Hop’s lap. He lies face down, hips right over Hop’s thick thighs. He’s tense and breathing too fast. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy gets lost when Hop’s palm makes contact with his ass. The resounding crack makes Billy gasp. The bloom of pain makes everything slide out of focus. Billy is sensory input, sting, and heat, and shame, and overwhelming arousal. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop smacks him some more. It’s not gentle. Definitely not as harsh as he could make it. The sting spreads. Billy’s wet like a bitch. He wants to grind against Hop’s thigh. He knows better. He does it anyway. That makes Hop drape an arm around his lower back and hold him still. Billy wants to struggle. He does that too. He thrashes. Tries to squirm away. Hop tightens his grip. He hits harder. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Men don’t cry. Pussies cry. Like this, helpless and humiliated, Billy is a pussy. He hides his face in the comforter as his eyes start to leak. His shaky breathing is a dead give away. The first time that freaked Hop out. Made him stop and ask if everything was OK. That made Billy cry harder. It made his dick soft. It made him grab his clothes and bolt. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>He came back, of course. After a few cigarettes. He didn’t go farther than the porch. He mumbled,<em> don’t ask. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.  </em></p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy wouldn’t ever ask for it to stop, but he’s not above lying to get what he wants. The whole point is for Hop to punish him. He’s supposed to give Billy what he deserves and maybe some extra. It doesn’t matter what Billy’s ostensibly done. It never has. Billy is a piece of shit, and a disappointment, and that’s plenty of reason on its own. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>It’s fucked up, but Billy gets antsy if nobody’s forcing him into penance. He starts to feel even dirtier. More worthless. He can’t clean up his act on his own. He’s proved that consistently. He needs someone else to tell him how to be better. Doesn’t matter if he listens. He just needs to be told. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Next time you want to borrow something, you ask for it.” Hop pauses. He grabs Billy’s ass and squeezes it, which honestly hurts almost as much as the spanking. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy whimpers. He might be trembling. He’s kind of detached from his body. He also feels everything more intensely than usual. His brain is a mess and it’s also buzzing white noise. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop smacks him again. “Do you understand?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p><em> “Yessir,” </em> Billy slurs. He feels drunk. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Good boy.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>It’s a shock of pleasure. It’s a rolling pin of prickling, aching, ecstasy up his spine. Hop hits him again. Billy’s skin feels raw. He knows it’s bright red. He yelps. He’s stopped struggling. Can’t help the way he jolts every time Hop’s hand makes contact. His hands are fisted in the blanket. He’s not actually gonna pass out, but it kinda seems like there’s a slight danger he might. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop pauses again. His fingers dip down between Billy’s burning ass cheeks, just barely graze his hole. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Are you ready to be sweet for me?” Hop’s voice is gruff and raspy. Like he might take what he’s interested in regardless of Billy’s response. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy debates saying no to see what would happen. His desire to come overrides that curiosity. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p><em> “Yes,” </em> he mumbles, barely loud enough to be audible. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop picks him up. He settles Billy in his lap, straddling his legs. It hurts to sit. Billy does. He settles in on Hop’s thighs, swaying a little until he grabs the lapels of Hop’s jacket. Billy knows his face is puffy. He’s a mess of tears, and his nose might be running. He tries to wipe off on the back of his hand. Hop cups his face. Smooths his thumbs across Billy’s cheeks. Kisses his forehead in a way that makes Billy want to be a puddle. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“You’re still so hard, baby.” Hop rubs a finger along Billy’s erection, making it jump. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy nods, words beyond him. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Think you can ride me? Or you too worn out?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy spits in his palm and wraps it around Hop’s dick. Hop’s dick is fat, Billy’s fingers barely touch when he holds it. Hop’s not too long, just a bit above average. Billy prefers thick. Hop’s right at the edge of what Billy can take without hurting himself if he gets too impatient. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop reaches for the lube, because Billy isn’t going to. He takes Billy’s hand and squeezes some out. Billy slicks up Hop’s dick for real. He lifts himself, a bit unsteady, lines up, and sinks down. He moans, high and breathy. Hop curses. He grabs Billy’s ass and kisses him. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>HeBilly doesn’t always like kissing, but Hop kisses good. Doesn’t stick his tongue in. It’s just a messy slide of lips. When it’s happening, Billy can’t focus on anything else. He doesn’t move until they break apart. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy rocks, grinding on Hop’s dick, and against his stomach. It feels so fucking good. He’s full, and zoned out, and he’s still holding onto Hop’s jacket. The fabric is rough beneath his fingers. He’s staring at the patches. He rolls his hips a little faster. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>His favorite part is the slide in. The sensation of being stuffed and stretched to the limit. He likes when the full length of Hop’s cock is in him. He likes it deep, barely lifts up because it feels amazing to just. Bounce faster and faster, chase that sensation of intense penetration. The kind that sends mixed signals of discomfort and dirty pleasure. The more he gets, the more he wants. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>He really only starts lifting up higher because he wants to fuck himself harder and the gravity helps. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Christ.” Hop groans. He’s panting. Eyes fixed on Billy’s face. “Feel so good, baby.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy is already close, which he should be embarrassed about. It’s not his fault. Hop worked him up a lot. Also Billy enjoys being oversensitive. Sometimes when he jerks off, he’ll keep playing with his cock after he’s come. It’s a specific type of discomfort. Makes him squirm, and gasp, and he hates it, but he loves it. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Can I?” Billy can’t bear to make eye contact. He’s only asking because he’s supposed to. He tells himself. Just because after he gets off, more punishment won’t be as fun. Not because he’s so beat up and strung out he’s eager to be <em> good </em>. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Can you what?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Please.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“You gonna come already?” Hop gives Billy a light tap on his left ass cheek, which stings quite a bit. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Wanna. ‘M close.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Hmm.” Hop taps him again. “Since you asked so nicely. Go ahead.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy whines. He presses against Hop’s beer belly more firmly, cock sliding against sweaty skin as he rides Hop for all he’s worth. He’s tense all over. Coiled much too tight. He’s light headed. Muscles burning with a delicious tension. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>He shudders when he comes. Squeezes down so tight he has to drop back to short, abortive jerks of his hips. He keeps grinding on Hop as he splatters jizz between them. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop growls. He steals another kiss, nipping at Billy’s lips. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Hands and knees.” It’s a clear, stern order. Billy scrambles to comply. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy moves to the center of the bed, arches his back, he plants his knees wide enough for Hop to fit between them. His arms are tired, which doesn’t make sense, but he braces them as best he can. The mattress dips behind him. The thick head of Hop’s dick presses against him, pops in without much resistance. Hop’s hands are on his hips. He starts to move. Fast. Rough. Billy closes his eyes and whines. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>It’s so <em> much </em>. He can barely breathe. He’s so full. Hop’s hammering the hot spots. Billy’s dick didn’t get all the way soft. He aches like he does when he’s just upped his weights. Hop’s hips slap against Billy’s ass. He’s grunting like an animal. Billy’s arms give out. His face is once again pressed against the comforter. The bed creaks under them. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy could honestly do this forever? Surf that edge between <em> make it stop </em> and <em> I need more. </em> He’d get hard again. He could come a few more times if this went on long enough. He knows this because he’s been the center of attention at a couple <em> poker nights. </em>One of the guys he used to fuck would have his buddies over to play cards once a week. If Billy happened to be there, he would end up spread across the card table. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Does Hop have old army buddies? Do they ever visit? That might be a thing to ask about. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“God<em> damn </em>.” Hop’s thrusts are getting a bit erratic. “Gonna fill you up. You want it?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Come in me.” Billy sounds utterly wrecked. In that moment, though, nothing would make him happier. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop fucks into him real harsh just a few more times. He hisses through his teeth. Then he goes still. Billy imagines he can feel Hop painting his insides. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Billy collapses as soon as Hop pulls out and lets go of him. He rolls onto his side, still twitching a little. He feels like a slinky. No structural integrity. He’s not gonna be able to move for a while. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>It’s a Saturday. He doesn’t actually have plans beyond getting stoned with Tommy and maybe getting his dick sucked. Tommy’s a much different flavor. He’s a little soft, a little young looking. He’s pretty—big brown eyes and face sprinkled with freckles. He’s shorter than Billy and he’s not that assertive. But he’s got a nice mouth and Billy doesn’t mind returning the favor. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop hasn’t sucked Billy’s dick before. Maybe Billy could talk him into it if he stays. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop stretches. He lies down next to Billy, on his back, panting. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Well that was really something.” He reaches for his pack of cigarettes. He slides two out before Billy has the chance to ask. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>He places the Marlboro Red between Billy’s lips and lights it. Billy inhales. It only enhances the vague floaty afterglow. Hop lights his own, takes a long drag and exhales. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Make me breakfast.” Billy paws at Hop’s arm after he exhales a cloud of smoke. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Hmm. Demanding.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“I’m hungry.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop takes a few more puffs on his cigarette. “Think I got some Eggos. Bacon. Definitely coffee.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“Coffee would be good.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“That mean you’re sticking around?”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>“For a little bit. Obviously.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Hop swats him on the thigh. “If you don’t quit being so sassy, I’m gonna bend you over my knee again.”</p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>That sends a lurch of heat through Billy. He crowds in closer to Hop. Drapes a leg over his thigh. Hop shifts enough to wrap an arm around him. Billy lifts his head and rests it on Hop’s shoulder. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>They haven’t really like. Cuddled. Even when Billy’s crashed here, he’s stuck to his side of the bed. He usually leaves as soon as he wakes up, or maybe after a quick morning fuck. People are always trying to pin Billy down. He’s used to running away. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>In Hawkins there aren’t many places to run to, though. The sex is fantastic. Hop isn’t overbearing. Isn’t trying to claim ownership. </p>
    <p> </p>
    <p>Maybe Billy can relax a little. </p>
  </div>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from the Shakey Graves song of the same name.</p><p>I'm on <a href="https://trashcangimmick.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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